Canary Angel
by DiscoUnicorn
Summary: ONE SHOT! Angelina meets Fred only to walk away with a broken heart.


His heart pounded so loudly it felt like someone was hammering his chest, his wrists, his neck, and his head. He gazed out the fogged window with a sense of confidence he'd picked up only a few years earlier. With the war still dying down, he didn't think it was completely wise of him to be in public so often. His eyes strayed from the dark figure walking down the sidewalk to a woman dressed in a bright yellow dress and matching yellow stiletto heels. His stomach tightened for all of ten seconds before he knew it was she. He carelessly threw his sweater on the table in front of the fireplace before sitting down on the windowsill. He needed an angel to help him get over what he'd seen the day before.

She stood beside the bed staring at him with a hint of amusement and annoyance. Her thick raven colored hair fell down her back after she removed her cloak and draped it on one of the chairs at the table. The air in the room was thick with warmth that tickled her freezing feet. She'd opted to not wear the shoes that night, but she didn't want to disappoint him. What could have been worse than what she had already done?

His hazel eyes fell on her only after he realized she was staring at him as always. The light from the candles bounces off her dark skin softly, making her look god-like. She was already an inch shy of six feet, but in those shoes he knew she would be on eye level with him. Enjoying the feel of the silk dress as it pressed against his bare, tanned skin, he took her into his strong arms. Her clear fingernails raked his back playfully as she looked at him smiling. Every time he looked into her eyes he was reminded of the midnight sky back at the fort. Her eyes were so dark, but they shined enough so that he felt he would lose himself in them. She playfully kissed him on the cheek and pulled him towards the bed. His heart raced again when he noticed how the dress clung to her curves. It was just like seeing her in it for the first time all over again.

They were always clumsy, but then again, they hadn't had much time to enjoy one another. Their eyes locked as he caressed her arms. Slowly, he lowered the thin straps of her dress. The rising of her chest slowed with his movements, her body anxious to feel his. She wrapped her arms around him so that he could kiss her on the neck and unzip the dress. Their lips met again; that time it was an almost desperate action. She stumbled as she stepped out of the dress. He held her against his chest, their eyes remaining locked as he led her to the bed.

She's an angel. No, she's in heaven. Her dark eyes focused on the soft pulsing of her lover's neck as he hovered over her, touching her in every place he found interesting. His hard hands grabbed her breasts just as he pushed into her, making them into one. A small sound like a moan and squeak escaped her throat. His hazel eyes stared into her dark ones. She was almost too happy when he kissed her, muffling her moans. Her nails dug deep into the skin of his back as he pushed into her harder, his eyes changing from being content to that anger she noticed whenever they had coffee at the Three Broomsticks. He gripped her thigh with his right hand and steadied himself on the bed with his left. She looked out the window at the moon shining in on them. A shaking hand covered her mouth as he continued to violently thrust into her.

He let go of her thigh and held her wrists above her head. He wanted to hear her; he wanted to see her face. Her lips pressed together tightly, and she closed her eyes. He used his left hand to turn her face to him. She gazed at him, her eyes filled with excitement, lust, and a fire he knew all too well. He wondered if she looked at _him_ that way when _he _made love to her. The heel of her shoe dug into his leg slightly, catching him off guard. He rolled over onto his back, cradling her against his chest. She adjusted herself, but he grabbed her hips and thrust into her so fast she barely had time to react. A scream of surprise filled the room. It was followed momentarily by muffled moans, curse words, and incoherent rants. A warm hand clamped down on her mouth before her back met the mattress again. He was reminded why he hated when she was on top. Their ecstasy arrived at the same moment, rendering them both senseless and blind with pleasure. They moaned into one another's mouths.

He sat on the windowsill dressed in only his pants. The light pouring in from outside made him look almost angelic. She smiled to herself as she stood from the bed, ignoring him watching her. Usually, he would have said something not worth remembering on her part, but she always remembered. She bent over to pick up her dress and felt him standing behind her. Of course she'd judged him wrong. He pushed her against the bed playfully, chuckling in her ear as he held her against the bed with his hand on her back. It was this way that she liked it best. He didn't try to muffle her moans and screams as he brought them both to release again.

She remained on the bed panting. He knelt and held the dress out for her. She stepped into it, averting her eyes to his sweater on the table when she noticed his stare. He kissed her hungrily as he zipped the dress. She sauntered over the table with a smile on her face. Her face fell slightly when she saw how miserable he looked watching her. Yes, he was glorious, as he stood there naked; his skin was tanned from being in the sun so often, his body muscular from having to do so much manual labor at the forts, and his lips always that perfect pink, but he still looked like he'd lost his best friend. Ahh, sick irony. She strolled across the room and kissed him again, her black cloak hanging on her arm. He forced a smile before walking back to the window, his face hard set.

"Why did you marry him?" he asked in an almost cracked voice.

He'd never asked her _that_ question before. Why had she married Montague, aside from her parents arranging it? She couldn't tell him that. Her heart raced for a moment until she realized he was waiting for her to answer. What could she say? "He wasn't you." She backed away from him with her eyes filling with tears. Her cloak felt warm against her skin. She opened the door.

"You'll always be mine, won't you? My canary Angel."

She turned to see him smiling her. She bit on her bottom lip as she nodded and closed the door.


End file.
